Swamped

"If Custard's case is that well-known, she might just be using that as cover," you say. Or maybe she just blurted out Custard. "Arlene, could you do a quick search and see if she's carrying a mask? She might be involved in this other business."

Arlene nods, and the next thing you know she's poking around the thief. A few minutes later, she looks at you again.

"If she's got one, she's hiding it real well. But I did find something else interesting."

She holds out her hand and gives you a note.

"I can't tell what language this is in," you say, glancing at it.

"That's personal," the thief says quickly. "A love letter, and no, I'm not telling you who it's for."

That's the worst bluff you've seen in a good while. It might well be personal and have nothing to do with why she broke in, but you're convinced it's no love letter.

"Well, whoever your lucky paramour is, you'll just have to write them a new letter," you reply, putting it away. And now she looks worried. Now you're pretty sure it's not just personal.

"Shall I just take her to the town guard?" Arlene asks. "Or do you have any other questions for her before I do?"